


Rocket Discovers His Depravity

by Pink_Panda_Stormy



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Comics), Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: BDSM, Furry, Light BDSM, M/M, Non-Consensual Tickling, Rocket Raccoon-centric, Tickling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-27 20:48:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21125027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pink_Panda_Stormy/pseuds/Pink_Panda_Stormy
Summary: In a moment of frustration and annoyance with his ship's captain, Rocket Raccoon decides to take something personal of Quill's in an effort to antagonize his friend. Things backfire when Quill retaliates in an unusual way by pinning Rocket down and tickling him to teach him a lesson. The tickling is humiliating and pure torture, but for whatever reason Rocket doesn't hate it. Actually, for some strange reason he seems to enjoy it. Confused and upset at his own desires, Rocket tries his best to deal with these newfound feelings.





	1. Chapter 1

It wasn’t Rocket Racoon’s intention to antagonize his friend, at least not at first. Truth be told he just wanted to stop that goddamn noise for a little while. Lately he had been more irritable than usual. He couldn’t pinpoint why, which only annoyed him more. Things that he used to not care about suddenly pissed the raccoon off. One of which… being his captain’s music.

The same songs. Again… and again… and again. It felt like every day from the moment he woke to the second he fell asleep he heard the same exact music.

Quill’s music was driving him insane. Last night had been the tipping point, as he had blasted his music throughout the ship for hours and hours. Rocket hadn’t been able to sleep, as the sounds wormed their way into his ears. By the time it finally stopped he knew he had to do something about it. It had been the third night in a row where Quill had stayed up late with no respect for the others rest. 

Quill’s music player was important to him. Rocket knew that. Even as he snuck into Quill’s cabin in the dead of night, half crazed from his own lack of sleep, he knew it wasn’t the best long term plan he could come up with. Still, the second he had his paws on the device he stopped thinking logically.

Rocket had hid the player behind one of the loose metal panels of the ship where he liked to hide some of his guns in case of emergencies. He didn’t want to destroy the thing, as tempting as it was. He didn’t want to admit it, but he cared too much about Quill to seriously damage anything he cherished. He just wanted to see the guy squirm and panic upon realizing his possession was gone.

Rocket had snuck off back to his cabin after his deed had been dealt with. From the moment his head hit the pillow he was out like a light. He almost expected to not be able to sleep, like those stories he heard where people were too wracked with guilt after doing something heinous. Truth be told, he slept better than he had in months that night. It was the first morning in quite a long time where he wasn’t rudely awoken by one of Quill’s songs blasting from the cockpit of the ship.

Rocket left his cabin late, having slept in a few more hours than usual. He yawned and stretched his arms up above his head as he sleepily made his way down the hall toward the back of the ship. He was already thinking about what he wanted to eat when he was interrupted by a loud, sudden bang.

“Dammit!”

Rocket jumped, feeling the fur on the back of his neck stand up on end. He realized it was Quill who shouted. He had just walked by the captain’s cabin door, from which the loud sound had originated. Rocket frowned, and made his way closer to the door. He heard another crash, like something had been thrown frantically up against the wall. He heard another swear from the other side of the door.

Suddenly the door in front of Rocket was thrown open. Quill stepped out quickly. If it weren’t for Rocket’s quick reflexes he might have kicked the raccoon.

“Hey, watch where you’re going!” Rocket snapped.

Quill didn’t respond, but made his way quickly past Rocket without so much as looking down. His pacing was quick. He didn’t even shut the door behind him. Rocket grumbled under his breath and glanced inside, only to feel his chest tighten.

The entire inside of the cabin had been torn apart. It was a mess like Rocket had never seen before, with drawers open and sheets sprawled out on the floor. The raccoon took a step inside, frowning to himself.

“Aw, shit,” Rocket grumbled under his breath.

A pit of guilt was starting to form inside of Rocket’s belly. He knew Quill would be upset upon realizing his device was missing, but he didn’t expect this sort of reaction. Quill was clearly in distress.

“Hey!”

Rocket jumped. He looked up and over his shoulder to see Quill standing in the doorway. His hair was messy, and he was out of breath.

“Wh-What?” Rocket asked.

“The heck are you doing in here?” Quill asked.

“Uh… n-nothing,” Rocket said. “You uh… looking for your music player?”

“How the hell did you know I was missing that?” Quill questioned. “Didn’t you just wake up?”

Shit.

“Oh, uh… I uh…”

Quill was towering over him. Rocket’s mind suddenly went blank. He couldn’t think of a good excuse in time before Quill lost it. 

“You’re the one who took it, didn’t you, asshole!” Quill snapped.

“Woah woah woah hold up!” Rocket snapped. He tried to step back, but Quill was too quick for him. He dove down onto his knees and snatched Rocket on either side of his body. He tried to free himself, but Quill’s grip was strong.

“Where the heck is it?” Quill asked, patting down Rocket and squeezing him in several areas.

“W-What the heck?” Rocket snapped. “Get your h-hands off of mehehe!”

Much to his own surprise, Rocket laughed. It was as Quill’s hands dug into his sides, grabbing and proading for pockets where his music player might be held. He tried to squirm and writhe, but nothing seemed to help him get away from Quill. Those damn hands wouldn’t stop touching him, either.

“A-Ahaha, you ass!” Rocket yelled. “Get off! That shit tickles!”

“Oh, does it now?” Quill asked. He was grinning, but his eyes had a burning anger behind them. “Not talking, huh? Guess I’ll just have to make you talk, you damn trash digger!”

“Hey, hold up!” Rocket whined as Quill snatched him up off the ground. He tried to kick and punch, but the size difference between them made it impossible to land so much as a scratch when Quill held out his arms.

Rocket was flung down with a surprising amount of strength right onto Quill’s bed. He tried to quickly scramble himself up, but Quill was quick. He grabbed him by both of his arms, and lifted them straight up above his head.

“The hell are you doing?” Rocket questioned. “I-I didn’t have anything to do with your stupid music player!”

“Yeah, sure,” Quill said. He was still gripping Rocket’s wrists with one of his fists, hovering above the raccoon with his face only a few feet away. “Who else would take it? You’re always the one telling me to turn it down, right? Better talk now.”

“Or what?” Rocket growled. “What’re you gonna do? Hurt me?”

“No,” Quill said, steadily breathing out. “But I am gonna have to punish you if you don’t start talking soon, furball.”

“Pffft,” Rocket rolled his eyes and let out a groan. Whatever guilt he felt for Quill before was fading, and quickly. Now he was just being a pain in Rocket’s ass. He knew his friend wouldn’t hurt him, obviously, so he had no clue what else he could possibly do.

“Let’s see,” Quill said under his breath. He lifted the hand that wasn’t holding Rocket’s wrists and hovered it over Rocket’s chest. “How about… here?”

Quill’s fingers moved down, trailing on the fabric of Rocket’s overalls. He moved slowly to the right until he reached the end of the clothes, and his fingertips slipped down onto Rocket’s fur. His armpit.

“Nngh!” Rocket could feel himself tense instantly as soon as one of those fingers touched down into his pit. Instantly his eyes widened and his breath caught in his throat. It wasn’t a reaction he was expecting to give.

“You gonna tell me where it is?” Quill asked, beginning to move that single finger in small circles around Rocket’s bare, exposed pit.

“A-Aha! T-The hell are you doing?” Rocket whined, biting down onto the inside of his cheek and squirming. He pulled at his wrists but Quill’s grip was like iron chains.

“What’s wrong?” Quill asked, giving Rocket a sly grin. “Ticklish?”

Tickling… it was something Rocket had little knowledge of. He had heard about it before, of course, but it wasn’t exactly something that he had any real experience in. He had heard about how it made you laugh, and sometimes even the torturous feelings it brought. Truth be told the raccoon had always scoffed at the idea. He wondered how something like being forced to laugh could be anything close to torture. He knew torture, all too well.

“Piss off!” Rocket grunted through gritted teeth. He shut his eyes now. Quill’s finger kept swirling and swirling. It took everything in Rocket’s power to keep himself from giggling. Goddammit he was really ticklish. Why the hell had he been made to be ticklish? What kind of purpose did that serve? 

Quill’s finger made a sudden movement down into Rocket’s pit where he had been circling like a vulture. Rocket’s eyes shot open. Quill’s fingertip relentlessly proaded and scratched the deepest, most vulnerable part of Rocket’s armpit.

“Ahahaha! Knock it off!” Rocket shouted. He couldn’t hold back his giggling anymore, as much as it pissed him off. He turned his head side to side with violent force and tried to kick his legs to get Quill off of him, but it wasn’t working.

“You ready to talk?” Quill asked.

“S-Screw you!” Rocket snapped. “I didn’t take shit!”

“Liar,” Quill said. He then grinned devilishly. “Oh well. I’m having fun. Let’s see where else you’re ticklish, huh?”

“Hey!” Rocket shouted as Quill’s hand finally left his pit, only to go up to the strap of his overalls and unbutton it with one hand. Quill did the same to the other side, pulling the fabric down and exposing Rocket’s shoulders. He tugged hard, ripping the overalls down until they were at Rocket’s waist, and suddenly his entire chest was exposed/

“Nice,” Quill said, still smirking down at the raccoon. “Man, there’s a lot here to tease. I’d hate to be you right now, little guy.”

Rocket could have sworn his face felt a bit hotter than usual. He could only hope that something as embarrassing as a blush wasn’t obvious to Quill. He wasn’t used to being exposed like this. In fact, with both his chest being exposed and his arms being bound it was making him think of the past. The past wasn’t exactly full of good times for the raccoon. 

But why wasn’t he angrier? If this was really like those awful, awful days why the hell wasn’t he seriously fighting? He was writhing and trying to break free, sure, but it was nothing like the blind panic of trying to claw and bite his way free. The way he was trying to fight almost felt playful… He hadn’t realized it until just now.

Rocket’s thoughts were interrupted by Quill continuing the session. The raccoon bit his tongue as Quill’s hand settled palm down against his abdomen. His fingertips dug gently, giving Rocket’s belly a squeeze.

“Mhm…” Rocket reacted despite forcing himself to keep his mouth shut.

Dammit, dammit, dammit! Just how much of his body was ticklish?

Quill’s fingertips were soon the only thing touching Rocket’s belly. They traveled down, using the lightest and most annoying stroke possible to make Rocket nearly whimper with ticklish agony. It was so, so awful. He wanted to laugh, but he tried his best to keep himself from. Even as the fingers drug along the outline of his belly and sides he tried to keep his mouth shut. Quill was moving tediously slow, driving Rocket insane. Rocket’s body kept involuntary jerking each time those damn fingers touched a spot that was unusually sensitive. Each time Quill chuckled.

Then Quill’s fingers moved down to Rocket’s belly button. Up until this point Rocket’s sides had been the worst, forcing out a few involuntary giggles from just a few light touches. However, as soon as those fingers touched down and began to trace the outline of his belly button Rocket knew he was done for.

“E-Ehehehe!” Rocket giggled, trying to grind his teeth shut and force himself to stay quiet. He soon realized that was impossible, because Quill was hardly touching him. Upon realizing he had found a sensitive spot Quill pressed harder, using his fingernails to scratch and prod.

“A-Ahahaha!” Rocket cried out. “D-Dahahahamit!”

Rocket squealed with ticklish agony at the relentless torment of his belly button. Quill was starting to tease now, pinching his lower belly as the rest of his fingers danced around and inside the belly button. Rocket started to thrash with newfound energy. Panic rose in his body of just how helpless he was. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t freaking move. This was driving him insane.

“Ahahahaha!” Rocket cried out. “S-Stohohoop! Ehehehehe! Not there! Ahahahahaaaaa!”

Though it wasn’t long before Quill moved on from the belly button, it felt like an eternity. Rocket barely had time to catch his breath once Quill’s hand pulled away before he was attacked once more, this time near his chest. Quill’s fingers found his nipples quickly, and began to stroke at them.

“Y-Yohohou shit!” Rocket squealed.

“You’re just sensitive all over, huh?” Quill asked.

“Shuhutut up!”

“What happens if I stroke here?”

“D-Dohohon’t you dahahar — EEEEHEHEHEEE!”

Rocket was now positive he was going to lose his mind. Quill had gone back to his armpits, only this time he wasn’t playing lightly. He was digging his fingers in, forcing them to stroke and poke and claw with such ferocity that Rocket was soon blinded by his own desire to laugh.

“EEEEHEHEHEEEE!” Rocket cried out. “NOHOHOHOOOO!”

Rocket tried, desperately, to move his body to one side away from the fingers. That only made Quill switch pits, which made Rocket struggle the other way. This little dance repeated, with Rocket squirming and Quill following him. There was no escape from the tickling.

“I’LL TELL YOU!” Rocket cried out. “I’LL TELL YOU WHERE YOUR DAMN PLAYER IS! AHAHAHAAAAA!”

“Hmmm, naw,” Quill said, grinning. “I’m having fun. Besides… I think you still need a bit more punishment.”

Rocket could feel his heart race with panic as Quill lowered his hands to the floor, and snatched up a belt from the mess he had made. He was quick to bind Rocket’s hands, able to easily fight off Rocket’s half-exhausted struggles, and tie them up to the back of the bed.

“Shit!” Rocket hissed, pulling at his new bindings. All he managed to do was hurt his wrists by tugging too hard. No good.

“That’s more like it,” Quill said, leaning over Rocket with a grin on his face. He lifted both of his hands, which Rocket stared at with wide, frightened eyes. He wiggled his fingers tauntingly, and Rocket felt his breath catch in his throat once more.

“C-C’mon,” Rocket whined. “I’ll tell you where it is…”

“I think you haven’t learned your lesson,” Quill said. “I’ll make sure it sticks.”

“G-Get away from me you a-ahahahasssssssss!”

Rocket’s insult was cut short as Quill’s hands dug down fast into his sides. Instantly, Rocket screamed.

“AHAHAHAHAAAAAA!” Rocket cried out, arching his back and trying to turn to one side or the other. Quill’s fingers followed, attacking his belly and sides with fierce, hard strokes. Quill’s nails were digging into his sides, scraping downward and clawing out laughter that was so forced it was starting to make Rocket’s throat sore. “NOHOHOHOOOO! GET OFF GET OFF GET OFF!”

Quill wasn’t listening to Rocket’s pleas. He just kept tickling. His fingers kept running with grace along the ticklish raccoon’s exposed upper body. With one hand Quill reached up and stroked at Rocket’s neck, using his other hand to swirl around the belly button once more.

“PPPPFFFFTTTTTT!”

Rocket didn’t know it was possible for just so much of his body to be ticklish. This was unrelenting. Had the crazy assholes who made him intentionally make him the most ticklish thing in the universe?

Quill’s fingers were currently inside of both of his pits. The helpless raccoon was squealing, and panting, and swearing through his laughter. He tried with all his might to pull his arms free and hide his horribly sensitive pits from Quill’s torturous fingers. It felt even more like a hopeless attempt than when this torment had begun. This was, above all else, exhausting. He could feel his body getting weaker, and somehow more sensitive, as the seconds drug on. Though the tickling got worse, and made him want to laugh harder, he soon became unable to fight as hard as he had at the start.

Quill was ruthless with him. He drug all ten of his fingers down Rocket’s sides all the way from his pits down to where his overalls hung. He did it again, and again, and again. In fact, he did it so much and so roughly that even when he stopped Rocket could still feel his sides tingle with the sensation. He could not for the life of him stop giggling, even when Quill took a moment to pull his hands away and find a new spot to tease.

“Have you learned your lesson?” Quill asked.

“S-Screw you…” Rocket said through an exhausted breath.

“That’s no way to talk,” Quill said, lifting his hands and putting them on either side of Rocket’s head. “Now c’moooon, say you’re sorry.”

Quill’s fingers weren’t done yet. With his hands still on the sides of Rocket’s head he lifted them, and began to stroke at the edges of Rocket’s long ears. He used light, feather-like touches to drag around.

“NNNNGH EHEHEHEEE!” Rocket squealed, trying to thrash his head but being unable to do so in Quill’s hands. “K-Knock it off! Stop touching! Stop!”

“You know how to make it stop,” Quill said, still stroking the ears. “Man, I didn’t think these cute ears of yours would be ticklish too. Is there a spot on you that won’t make you laugh?”

“A-Ahahahahaa! F-Fine! I’m sorry!”

“Sorry for what?”

“FOR TAKING YOUR DAMN MUSIC PLAYER, YOU ASS!” Rocket shouted as loud as he could with what little strength he had left.

“There, was that so hard?” Quill asked, smirking. “Now where the hell is it?”

Rocket told Quill the truth. He was too exhausted to lie and risk another ‘punishment’ from Quill for doing so. Quill seemed satisfied, and undid Rocket’s bindings before getting up off the bed and heading off for his player.

“G-Goddammit,” Rocket hissed under his breath as he felt his wrists. He rolled onto his side, tugging up his overalls. He felt humiliated, with his face hot and probably bright enough to show a blush through his fur. He really had been driven to near insanity by tickling?

Still, Quill was right. He didn’t hurt him.

Rocket tugged up at his overalls as he slipped them back over one of his shoulders, only to pause, and freeze. Instantly the raccoon felt his eyes widen, and his heart pick up in pace.

Between Rocket’s legs he felt… stiffness. He glanced down, seeing the tent in his overalls where his cock was. He felt his whole body tense up. Confusion and a bit of panic hit him, sending his thoughts spiraling. A million questions blasted through his head at lightning speed. 

Why the hell was he hard? Did Quill notice? Did the bastard not say anything? How didn’t he realize it until now? Did being tickled and bound up like that seriously turn him on?

“Got it!”

“Ah!”

Rocket jumped, hearing Quill’s voice. He was quick to force his legs shut, hiding the shame of his erection. He saw Quill in the doorway to the cabin, holding his music player in one hand and staring down at it as he put one headphone over one of his ears. He wasn’t even looking at Rocket.

“You gonna like… go?” Quill asked. “I gotta clean up this mess, y’know.”

“I-I’m going!” Rocket snapped. “Just let me catch my damn breath!”

“Better hurry,” Quill said, stepping in. His tone was teasing. “Now that I know your weaknesses I can punish you any time.”

“P-Piss off!” Rocket said, feeling his voice stutter. He hopped off the bed. With one of his shoulders still uncovered he hoped the fabric was lose enough not to show his tenting shame.

“Yeah, yeah,” Quill said. “Don’t take my stuff, buddy.”

Rocket was quick to make his way out of Quill’s cabin. He didn’t stop there, and made his way quickly back to his own. He half-stumbled through the door, gasping as he shut it behind him and fell to the floor.

“Shit,” Rocket hissed under his breath, undoing the shoulder of his overalls and tugging them down. He revealed his underwear, tenting just as hard as before. He bit his lip, feeling heat rush to his cheeks.

Did Rocket really hate that? He thought he did. The entire time he was bound up it was nothing but pure agony. He wanted it to end from the moment it started, yet right now… he was turned on. He was really, REALLY turned on. 

Rocket gave it a few minutes, yet his cock didn’t soften in the slightest. He kept thinking of Quill’s fingers running against his sides. He could still feel the tingling. He couldn’t stop thinking of how it felt. Even when he shut his eyes and grunted he couldn’t make his thoughts stop.

He… Liked it…

“Dammit,” Rocket hissed under his breath. “That asshole.”

Rocket took a moment to compose himself. He gingerly lowered his hand to his tenting underwear. He thought of Quill’s fingers teasing his pits and belly button. He squeezed his cock gently, and felt himself resist a moan.

The whole time he was touching himself, he couldn’t stop thinking of how if had felt to be tickled.


	2. Chapter 2

Rocket had spent the last several days cooped up alone in his cabin feeling confused and flustered. He had tried his best not to let his experience with Quill bother him, but the harder he tried not to think about it the more the thoughts would pop up in his head. They made him feel annoyed and embarrassed. It was getting more and more difficult for the raccoon to so much as see Quill without freezing up. 

Rocket had gotten hard from Quill tickling him. He couldn’t stop replaying the memory again and again in his mind. He thought of how it felt to be held down and squeal at the touch of the man. He hated it so much in the moment, kicking and whining and begging for it to stop. It was pure torture. It left no scars, but it was as unforgiving as the real kind. Whenever he thought about it for too long his overalls got tight, and he was forced to excuse himself.

The night after Quill had tickled Rocket, the raccoon had been unable to sleep. He kept tossing and turning in his bed with the memory fresh in his mind. His cock was rock solid, and he couldn’t stop thinking about the reason why. Eventually, he gave into his body’s needs and jerked off, all while closing his eyes and trying to remember the sensation of Quill’s fingers digging into his sides. When he finally came he felt angry and ashamed. He was finally able to sleep, but he wasn’t exactly happy about it.

“Mmmmph,” Rocket whined as he rolled onto his side. He had a pillow pressed to both sides of his head. He was dealing with that same problem again. He was thinking about that day, and his body was reacting. He had just been sitting here tinkering with some gadgets when his mind started to wander. Whenever it wandered lately, it always came right back to the tickling.

Rocket told himself he was being stupid. He thought he was a freak or some kind of pervert. Normally those words wouldn’t bother him, but in the context of getting off because somebody tickled him, he couldn’t stop worrying about it. Maybe if it was a one-time thing he could excuse it, but the problem was it wasn’t.

Rocket wanted to be tickled again.

The raccoon had tried everything in his power to convince himself this one simple fact was a lie. He had denied it, tried to fight it, and even torn his hair out just trying not to think about it. However, everything boiled down to the same conclusion. He wanted more. He was like a starving beast who desperately searched for his next meal. Every time he was aroused all he could think about was how badly he wanted to experience it again. He wanted it to be just as intense, if not worse. He wanted to really suffer under the torment of Quill’s fingers. That thought alone was driving him insane to the point he couldn’t even squirm without feeling the rock solid cock between his legs.

“Dammit!” Rocket hissed.

He knew that someway, somehow, he had to figure out how to be tickled once again.

Turns out, it was actually a lot more difficult than he thought it would be. The more Rocket thought about it the more he realized he had pissed off and annoyed Quill countless times in the past. It was only this most recent endeavor that had escalated to the point of him snapping and actually retaliating seriously against Rocket. 

Rocket considered a few options. He thought about verbally assaulting Quill, trashing his room, or even just driving the ship off course when Quill wasn’t looking. All of these seemed a bit too drastic and downright mean in a way that didn’t rub the raccoon the right way.

In the end, repeating the same thing that got him into this whole mess felt like the best course of action. Which was how he ended up sitting alone in his room clutching Quill’s music device in both of his hands fidgeting with anxious nerves.

Honestly, Rocket didn’t feel amazing about stealing this device for a second time. He had regretfully been made to feel pretty guilty the last time he did so, even before Quill tickled the hell out of him, and to do it a second time just made him feel all slimy and gross. Still, it seemed like the safest option that wouldn’t result in too much of a mess for anybody aboard the ship. Sneaking into Quill’s room in the dead of night to snatch it from his nightstand had been easy enough, but the really hard part was just waiting.

It only took a few hours for Quill to realize what was missing. Rocket could hear him occasionally swearing as he searched the inside of his room with frustrated groans. It wasn’t quite the same vicious desperation as before, because it took him less than twenty minutes of searching before he got fed up and went searching for the raccoon.

Rocket had retreated to the safety of his cabin by the time Quill came pounding on his door.

“Th-The hell do you want?” Rocket asked, actually jumping as the pounding of the door synced up to the rough pounding inside his chest. “I’m busy!”

“I know you took it, you rat!” Quill snapped through the door before pulling it open. He took a step in with a frustrated look on his face. “Look, just give it back and we won’t have any problems.”

“I dunno what the hell you’re talking about,” Rocket said, though he was unable to look up and meet Quill’s eye as he lied through his pointy teeth. He honestly couldn’t stand to look at Quill without a wave of guilt washing over him. “Y’know it’s polite to wait for somebody to open the door before bursting into their room.”

“Don’t get cute with me,” Quill said. He stepped forward and grabbed Rocket without warning.

The raccoon, who had been sitting with his back facing Quill, yelped in surprise when he felt two hands grasp him by the armpits and lift him up.

“H-Hey, put me down!” Rocket snapped.

“Do I have to teach you another lesson?” Quill asked. He sounded devious now. “Just tell me what you did with it and I’ll leave you alone.”

Rocket could feel his chest almost explode with excitement. He suddenly wasn’t feeling very guilty any longer.

“I-I ain’t saying anything about your damn music player!” Rocket said, trying his best to really seal the deal by stating that he knew exactly what Quill was talking about.

“Oh, you’re asking for it now,” Quill said. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Lemme go!” Rocket snapped, fearful he might accidentally let it show in his voice just how excited he was. “I’ll scream! Really!”

“Heh, good luck shortstuff,” Quill mocked. “Everybody’s out on a supply run. I got you all to myself for the next few hours until you fess up!”

“Nnnngh, you sack of shit!” Rocket cried out, trying his absolute hardest to sound as angry as he normally would have. “I’m gonna bite your goddamn fingers off if you don’t let me go!”

“Good luck trying,” Quill said. “Cause when I’m through with you you’re gonna be too exhausted to even nip at me.”

Oh shit. Those words were way hotter to Rocket than he could possibly dream of. Suddenly he was very worried Quill might look down and discover the fact that his cock was quickly hardening from sheer anticipation. He watched helplessly as Quill undid his belt with one hand and pulled it free. He squirmed and struggled just enough to make it look like he was putting up a real fight, but not enough to actually free himself. As Quill began to tie his wrists up above his head he whined and panted. Quill secured both the belt and Rocket’s wrists to the top of the bed, freeing up both of his hands. Now Rocket was sitting there helplessly.

“We can avoid all of this if you just be a good little fuzzball and tell me where you hid it,” Quill said.

“Bite me,” Rocket growled.

“Heh, don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Quill teased. His hands moved down to Rocket’s shoulders where he quickly unlatched both sides of the raccoon’s blue overalls. He slipped them down. By now Rocket’s heart was beating so furiously fast that he was surprised Quill couldn’t hear it. Soon the overalls were at his waist, thankfully creating a big enough heap near his crotch to mask his quickly tenting erection from Quill.

“Aw, you’re so nervous you’re trembling,” Quill taunted. “I told you how to get out of it. You can still back out, you know.”

“S-Screw you,” Rocket said.

Truth be told, he was trembling from excitement. There was also the fear and terror that Quill might unmask his true desires, but right now he simply wanted it to start. He had been thinking about the last time so nonstop that he wanted to pinch himself just to make sure this wasn’t another one of his dreams. Luckily the tightness of the belt above his head and the adrenaline running through his veins was enough to tell him it wasn’t.

“I think last time wasn’t hard enough for you to learn a proper lesson,” Quill said. He reached out a finger and pressed it down to Rocket’s chest and began to drag it down. “Don’t go anywhere now.”

“Th-The hell are you doing?” Rocket asked.

Quill slipped off the bed and out of the room quickly, much to Rocket’s confusion and disappointment. If this were the last time he was positive he would be writhing trying to free himself, but instead he simply sat still and waited. When he heard Quill’s footsteps approach from down the hall return the raccoon started to feign struggling. He saw Quill was holding an assortment of items in his hands, which he dumped out onto the bed. Rocket noticed a toothbrush, a makeup brush, a backscratcher with pointy looking fingers, and other items that were tossed out of Rocket’s line of sight before he got a proper chance to look at them.

“The hell’s all that?” Rocket questioned.

“Your nightmare,” Quill said with a devious tone. “I told you. It’s time for a proper lesson.”

Quill reached down and snatched up the backscratcher first. His eyes ran up and down Rocket’s body before eventually falling down to the soles of the raccoon’s feet. He reached down and grabbed for one of the ankles. Rocket couldn’t stop himself from yipping in surprise. He hadn’t been tickled there last time, meaning he had no idea just how sensitive it was.

The pointed fingers at the end of the backscratcher settled down at the ball of Rocket’s sole and began to drag downward. Rocket didn’t stand a chance. He couldn’t even try to hold back. He just burst out laughing.

“Ah-Ahahahaha! H-Hohoholy shit!” Rocket began squealing in a matter of seconds. Before the backscratcher had even reached his arch he was overwhelmed by the sensation.

“Oh, you’re so fucked,” Quill said. He sounded downright evil as he drug the backscratcher without mercy. The ticklish feeling peaked as those fingers drug over his arches. Quill must have noticed this because he focused intensely on that area. He started rubbing the scratcher up and down in a two-inch-wide area. Rocket started to feel himself fight for real. There was no more faking it. This was torture.

Rocket loved it.

“A-Ahahahahahaaaa!”

Quill was quick to abandon the tool in exchange for another. He snatched up the makeup brush, which was long with a large poofy blackhead. Quill attacked under Rocket’s toes, leading to another outburst of uncontrollable laughter.

“Eehehehehehe! A-Ahhhhahaha shit!”

Rocket’s toes began wildly wiggling, which only made the tickling worse as the soft and delicate bristles began to lick and drag between his sensitive toes. The worst spot by far was directly underneath his toes and above the balls of his feet. Even a few of the hairs on the brush could have driven him to madness, but to have the whole thing drag back and forth was another kind of torture altogether. Quill once again picked up on Rocket’s rocketing laughter in that area and took it upon himself to pull back the toes so there was no escape for the helpless, vulnerable area.

“AAAAHAHAHAHAAAA!” Rocket squealed, screaming more than laughing now.

Goddammit he loved it so much. He loved the agony and helplessness. He loved having no control. He loved Quill being able to dominate him with nothing more than a soft makeup brush under his toes.

It was around then that Quill finally abandoned Rocket’s soft-padded soles. He moved his hands up to Rocket’s exposed upper half, wiggling his fingers with taunting agony. Rocket was close to whimpering as he was still breathing deeply and trying his best to recover from his poor feet being abused. His entire body trembled as Quill’s fingers went down to his armpit and began to rake downward.

“Eeeheheheheheheeeee!” Rocket continued to giggle and snort. He writhed from side to side but there was no escape. Quill grabbed for the toothbrush on the bed and brought it down to the opposite side of Rocket’s body where he began to scrub along the raccoon’s ribs. That’s when Rocket really started to get loud.

“EEEEHEHEHEE NOT THERE NOT THERE NOT THEHEHEHERE!” Rocket cried out. His pleading fell on deaf ears, which honestly only aroused the poor horny raccoon even more. The thought that there was no escape and even his begging wouldn’t get him out was making him rock solid. He loved to be tormented. He even loved Quill’s stupid teasing.

“Not here?” Quill asked, scrubbing even harder with the brush. “Right here? This spot? Or was it this spot?”

“EEEEEEEEEEEEEHHHHHEEEHEEE!”

When Quill switched sides with the toothbrush so did the hand raking through Rocket’s pit. His body bent and twisted awkwardly as it fought to get away from both sources of tickling, but of course there was no escape. When he squirmed to one side to get away from one source of the tickling all he was doing was pressing up into another, making it far worse.

It didn’t take very long for Quill to start dragging the toothbrush horizontally between his ribs. The flesh there was particularly sensitive. After he abandoned the toothbrush and ran his hand through the thick fur an idea seemed to pop in his head. Rocket was struggling to catch his breath as he glanced down and saw Quill rifling through the tools of horror. Finally, his hand grasped the handle of a hairbrush. It had long, thin plastic bristles.

“This’ll cut right through that pesky fur of yours,” Quill said.

“N-No, c’mon,” Rocket said. He was partially pleading to stay in character, and partially because he found it sort of a turn on to do so. “Please! L-Let’s talk about this, Quill!”

“Heh, no freaking way,” Quill said. “You’re doomed, buddy.”

Quill set the hairbrush down right over Rocket’s ribs just under his left armpit. The moment he began to drag it Rocket knew Quill wasn’t lying. He really was doomed.

“AAAAHAHAHAHA NOHOHOHOOOOO!” Rocket began squealing within seconds. The hysteria he was feeling at that brush raking over his ribs, cutting right through his thick fur and going right over his ticklish flesh, was near indescribable. It was hell and heaven combined. He had never laughed so loud in his life.

To make matters so much worse, Quill’s other hand was exploring the rest of Rocket’s upper body. His finger swirled around and prodded the raccoon’s belly button. His belly was soft, both in fur and pudginess. As such it was so very, very cruel to tickle it. Quill, however, was a very cruel man and saw no harm in sticking the hairbrush right over his abdomen as he scrubbed downward. Rocket felt as though he were nearing the point of tears as he flailed and squealed with ticklish hell.

“You have a cute laugh when it’s forced out like this,” Quill commented teasingly. “Ohhh, what’s wrong, need a break little guy? Guess I might have gone a little too roug—”

Quill cut himself off suddenly. It was so sudden that even in Rocket’s exhausted daze he stared up with curious questioning. It took him a moment to follow Quill’s eyes and look down. Horror struck the raccoon. His cock was out. His fully hard, erect cock was out of his pants. Not only was his cock hard, but the head was glistening with pre-cum. There was no way to look at it other than pure arousal. In all his endless writhing he must have found a way to slide out of his already half-off overalls.

Rocket’s first instinct was to try and pull up his pants, but then he remembered his arms were bound when he tugged a bit too suddenly and felt pain grind into his wrists. Panic set in as he pulled helplessly. Quill was still silent.

“Sh-Shut up!” Rocket snapped despite the fact that Quill had yet to say a single word. “J-Just shut up and get me the hell out of this! I-I fucking mean it this time!”

The raccoon tried his best to use his bound arms to cover his eyes. He was beyond embarrassed. He couldn’t believe he had let this happen. How had he been so stupid? Emotions of anger and guilt and sadness were all boiling up inside of him now. He wanted to scream and shout and part of him wanted to cry as the anxiety and fear set in.

“Um… I didn’t expect that,” Quill said after several moments of silence.

Quill’s hand settled down onto Rocket’s belly. The bottom of his palm was down past Rocket’s waistline no more than two inches away from the base of Rocket’s cock. The raccoon jumped and uncovered his eyes to look at Quill.

“Wh-What the hell are you doing?” Rocket asked. “I said untie me!”

“I-I know, it’s just…” Quill trailed off again. Rocket could practically see the cogs struggling to turn inside of Quill’s head. “Um… I don’t have to stop.”

Rocket blinked.

“Huh?” The raccoon asked.

“Do you want me to keep going?”

Now Rocket was convinced he was dreaming. That, or perhaps the shock of exposing his rock solid cock to Quill from being tickled had finally broken him and he was losing his mind.

“Mmm…” Rocket squirmed. He had never felt quite this exposed and helpless, at least not for many years. “D-Don’t freaking tease me, asshole.”

“I’m not!” Quill insisted. “I’m serious. Is… Is this why you took the music player again?”

Rocket didn’t answer. He just kept hiding his eyes behind his arms. After a few moments of silence he gave a silent, single nod of his head.

“I don’t… I don’t know why I like it,” Rocket said. “I just do. Don’t freaking say anything or I’ll bite your goddamn head off!”

Despite Rocket’s harsh words it was a struggle just to keep his voice steady. He was almost on the verge of tears out of pure embarrassment.

“I’m not making fun of you,” Quill said. “I just… If you tell me to stop again, I will.”

Silently, Quill’s hand began to move. It drug up from Rocket’s belly to his abdomen again. Rocket glanced down gingerly, and then very quickly up at Quill’s face. It was hard to read, but he didn’t seem upset nor disgusted. He seemed… intrigued if nothing else. His hand silently moved down to the makeup brush from before.

“What are you doing?” Rocket asked.

“If you say stop I will,” Quill repeated. He lifted the makeup brush slowly. Rocket watched as it slowly came down to the base of his cock. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but to feel the hairs actually graze up against the sensitive flesh made him gasp. He jumped and tensed as the makeup brush enveloped his cock on both sides. The hairs tickled, and even without a proper stroke, it was hard for Rocket to keep from giggling.

“Quill…” Rocket said in a quiet, needy sounding whine. “What are you doing?”

Quill didn’t respond. He simply moved the makeup brush up all the way to the head of the cock, and then back down. Even slowly the brush was hell. Despite all the feelings boiling up inside Rocket he couldn’t stop himself from giggling. He tried to hide it behind gritted teeth, but a finger dragging slow circles around his belly button pushed him over the edge.

“Hehehe… Sh-Shehehit, Quill!”

The brush began to move quicker once the giggling became impossible to hold back. Due to where the brush was touching, a few moans quickly became intertwined into Rocket’s laughter. As the brush went to more than just his cock it became abundantly clear that Rocket’s entire groin area was overly sensitive to tickling. His balls were just as bad, if not worse than his cock in terms of sensitivity. The brush alone made the poor raccoon want to writhe and giggle.

It was so hard for Rocket to process what exactly was happening. This all still felt like some sort of wet dream. Quill was seriously tickling his cock, and with each second that passed, Rocket could feel himself come closer and closer to orgasm. Maybe it was all the grinding against his overalls that had done it, but he seriously felt like if this drug on enough he was going to cum.

“Ahahahaha!” Rocket laughed. Quill’s fingers were groping and teasing his belly. He cracked open an eye and saw Quill smiling down at him. Was he actually enjoying this as well?

“How’s it feel?” Quill asked. “Having a soft brush all over your cock?”

“I-It tickles! Ehehehe!” Rocket whined. “G-Goddammit! Ahahahaaaa!”

With each second that passed in ticklish glee Rocket felt less and less of a weight on his chest, he had been holding for days lift itself. He hadn’t even realized just how awful keeping this secret of his desires had been. Even his excitement when Quill had finally snapped and decided to tickle him had been nerve-wracking. Now, for once he was able to enjoy it without guilt or humiliation.

“Ahhh! Ahahaha! Ahhh!” Rocket gasped between each laugh. When he started to move his hips up and down Quill’s hand which had been teasing his belly moved down and began stroking his cock. He kept the brush swirling over the head and balls, keeping Rocket laughing all the while.

Finally, it hit. Rocket let out a loud gasp and bit his lip. He could feel the overpowering sensation rock his body as he came, shooting cum up. If it hadn’t been blocked by the makeup brush still teasing his cock he was positive he would have shot hard enough to hit the ceiling of his cabin. Instead it splattered over the brush, and onto his belly. He shot three times before his cock was done. Rocket was left panting and trembling. All the strength in his body depleted in an instant.

As Rocket shut his eyes he could feel Quill’s hands go up and undo the belt that had been binding the raccoon’s wrists. As soon as he could Rocket turned onto his side. His long tail flicked. He didn’t even have enough energy to pull up his overalls, leaving him still exposed. He could feel Quill’s eyes bore into him.

“So,” Quill said. “Do we wanna talk about it?”

“Mmm…” Rocket felt warmth rush to his cheeks.

“We don’t have to now,” Quill continued. “I probably wore you out a bit too well.”

“Mmm,” Rocket repeated the same noise as he cracked open his eye and glanced briefly to Quill. “Hey, Quill?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for not freaking out,” Rocket said. “And I uh… I’m sorry for stealing your stuff again. Your thing’s in the desk.”

Rocket expected it to end there. He thought Quill was going to take his things and leave the room. Instead, he was surprised once again when Quill laid down on the bed. He pulled up a sheet to cover Rocket’s body, and wrapped an arm over him. Soon Rocket felt his back press up to Quill’s chest. Normally the raccoon would hate this, but right now… it wasn’t so bad.

Rocket shut his eyes. He knew that eventually he would have a lot to explain to Quill. However, right now he was tired. With Quill’s warmth pushing up to him he was able to push away his fears for the future and instead focus on this one moment and simply feel content. After a few minutes in silence, Rocket felt sleep tug at the edges of his mind, and the last thing he remembered was Quill’s hand rubbing gently against the fur on his chest.


	3. Chapter 3

It really had been quite some time since Rocket had felt this relaxed. The past several days of worrying senseless about Quill were starting to feel like a long forgotten memory. It was difficult for Rocket to put into words. Quill had not only learned his secret, but much to the raccoon’s shock he always embraced it. He… didn’t stop when he realized Rocket was aroused. His worst fears had come true yet Quill still managed to shock him by not even seeming angry. He was… relieved, but also confused. The only thing stopping him from wondering if it was some dream was the fact that he woke up with Quill asleep beside him.

Even as Rocket squirmed out from Quill’s arm draped over his body did he still not register fully what had transpired just hours before. Quill’s scent was overpowering Rocket’s nose, and more surprising was the fact that Rocket didn’t really mind. He heard Quill stirr as he freed himself from the arm, and the bed creaked as Quill rolled over onto his back with a loud grunt.

“Crap, how long has it been?” Quill groaned.

“A few hours, I guess?” Rocket guessed. He was already pulling up his overalls, something he couldn’t believe he had gone hours without doing, and avoiding setting his gaze on Quill to avoid feeling flustered. “Think the others are back yet?”

“I should go see for sure,” Quill said with a yawn as he sleepily rose up his body. He ran his hand through his hair as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. He stretched his arms high above his head. Rocket felt his chest tighten.

“Just like that?” Rocket asked. “You’re leaving already?”

“Huh?” Quill replied. “I mean… Should I stay?”

“Should we talk about what happened?”

“Do you want to?”

“I don’t know,” Rocket said. He turned his head and chuckled softly. “I… I’m just confused is all. D-Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy you didn’t get pissed or nothin’ but you’re acting way too normal.”

“Were you expecting me to blackmail you or something?” Quill asked. “Tell the whole ship I helped get you off by tickling you if you didn’t do what I said?”

“Course not,” Rocket muttered as he glanced away. “Nevermind. You can leave if you wanna.”

“I’m not exactly rushing to get out the door,” Quill said with a sigh. He turned back to face Rocket and got down onto his knees beside the bed. Now the two were at eye level, meaning that Rocket couldn’t avert his eyes without making it obvious. It made him want to squirm in place, and shrink to be even smaller than he was. 

“If you really want to know,” Quill said. “I noticed you were acting weird for a couple days now. You’ve been locked up in here most of the time, y’know? The look on your face when I saw… how you reacted to being tickled again kind of made everything click.”

“You were worried about me?” Rocket asked, almost laughing at that insane line of thought. For Quill to admit he was worried was so… out of character. It made the Rocket blush just to think about, and then feel even more guilty. “Wh-What did I look like? When you saw how…”

Rocket couldn’t even finish the sentence. It was too embarrassing. Quill had seen him fully hard after being tickled. The horror from the memory alone despite knowing it turned out okay in the end made the raccoon want to curl up into a ball. 

“Just scared, I guess,” Quill said. “Like you were scared I was gonna hurt you or something. I kinda felt like I cornered some hurt puppy or something.”

Quill chuckled, which only made Rocket’s blush deepen. It was so unlike him to feel so flustered and not snap or yell with annoyance, but Quill had managed to force the raccoon to bite his tongue with words alone.

“I’m not gonna judge you or anything,” Quill said. He lifted up one of his hands and slowly placed it on Rocket’s cheek. The normally reactive raccoon didn’t fight the kind touch and instead shut his eyes. Quill’s voice was so soothing despite the worry the raccoon felt. “It was fun. I wouldn’t have done what I did after if I didn’t enjoy it, y’know.”

“Really?” Rocket asked, lifting his head.

“You don’t gotta look shocked,” Quill said, laughing now. “I gave you a handjob, didn’t I?”

“I-I guess so,” Rocket admitted, chuckling himself. “Still. I just… Hearing you say it makes me all happy, okay? You better not go around broadcasting it or anything or I’m gonna be super pissed.”

“It’s kinda hard to take you all that seriously when I know your big bad secret weakness,” Quill said. He sounded teasing now as his hand ran from Rocket’s cheek down to the raccoon’s side where he gave a quick squeeze just under the ribs. Silently he slipped his hand to Rocket’s back and held him in place so he couldn’t slip away. A squeak involuntarily exited Rocket’s mouth as he was pinched, and subsequently held in place. “The hotheaded Rocket Raccoon loves it when he gets tickled. I wouldn’t believe you’re a gun crazed psycho if I didn’t see it myself.”

“Are you tryin’ to piss me off?” Rocket asked.

His words were much less effective when he was fighting off the urge to giggle. Quill’s fingers were rubbing the outside of his overalls over a sensitive part of his side, and even that was enough to make Rocket want to laugh. He really was a sensitive creature. It would be cruel if he didn’t like it so much.

“I guess I wouldn’t want you too mad at me,” Quill said with a sigh. He rolled his eyes and glanced to the closed cabin door, then back to Rocket. “Let’s strike a deal, alright?”

“What kinda deal?”

“I don’t tell anybody about your little tickle kink,” Quill said, leaning in closer to Rocket. “If you ask me what I know you’re dying to ask.”

“Huh?” Rocket questioned.

“Don’t play dumb,” Quill said. He had stopped squeezing Rocket’s side by now and had lifted up his hand to gently pinch the underside of Rocket’s chin. He forced the raccoon’s eyes to meet with his own, and then smiled coyly. “I’m asking if you want me to tickle you again.”

“You’d… You’d do that?” Rocket asked. “It wouldn’t freak you out or anything?”

“You look way too happy, you know that?”

“P-Piss off!” Rocket said. “Fine! You can tie me up so I can’t move and use whatever tools you want however long you want, okay? G-Go nuts if that’s what you want.”

“That’s better,” Quill said. “But now that I know you secretly like it so much, I’m not gonna go easy on you.”

“You were going easy before?”

Quill smirked, and it sent a tingle of fear up Rocket’s spine.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Furball?” 

————————————————————————————————————— 

For the next eighteen hours Rocket remained on edge. It was a different sort of edge from the one he had been inching towards for the past several days. That one had felt perilous and hopeless with a hand constantly pushing him forward and no way to turn around. Rocket didn’t feel a sense of looming doom, nor guilt for the thoughts he tried to deny any longer. Instead he just felt exposed. He was excited about their plans, but also terrified. He wanted it so badly but also feared when the hour would come.

“This all seem good?”

Rocket looked up. He was sitting on Quill’s bed with his arms crossed. He had been trying for the past several minutes to ignore just how tight his chest had become as anxious thoughts swirled around in his head. Several items were scattered on the floor, including many of the tools from yesterday. In Quill’s hands was a large bundle of rope he had gone to grab from the storage area of the ship.

“I tried to get everything I thought we’d need,” Quill said.

“It looks… fine,” Rocket said, turning his head. His face felt hot. Was he seriously blushing at just seeing a few brushes and rope scattered on the floor?

Volunteering to stay behind was Quill’s idea.

“Hey,” Quill said. His voice was softer than usual. “It’s alright if you’re nervous.”

“I ain’t… Nnngh,” Rocket wanted to defend himself, but had to back down. If he lied right here and now about how he felt he had a feeling it would only come back to bite him. “Fine. I am. You got me.”

“You still wanna go through with it?” Quill asked.

“C-Course I do,” Rocket said. Despite the stuttering in his tone he was entirely serious. He wasn’t going to back out now, nerves or not. The truth was he could hardly put it into words how badly he wanted this. Perhaps that raw, animalistic desire was what embarrassed the raccoon so much. He adored being helpless and vulnerable and tormented. It felt wrong, but also so right at the same time.

“You remember the safe word if I go too far?” Quill asked as he reached down his hand and grabbed Rocket by one of his ankles. He began to twist the rope around it, sealing the deal of what Rocket was getting himself into.

“Yeah, yeah,” Rocket said with a nod. “I remember.”

“This is supposed to be fun, alright?” Quill said. “If you feel like you’re upset or can’t take anymore you have to tell me.”

“You don’t gotta baby me,” Rocket grumbled.

“Alright, guy who practically begged me to tickle him.”

“Just shut up and tie me up!” Rocket snapped. “Before I leave the damn room!”

“Gonna be kinda hard to do that with your overalls on,” Quill said.

Rocket felt his face burst with heat.

“R-Right,” The raccoon mumbled.

After stripping down to nothing but his underwear Rocket tossed aside his clothing to the floor beside Quill. Despite being just as exposed only yesterday, feeling Quill’s eyes run up and down his body made him want to squirm.

“Ready now, hothead?” Quill asked.

“I am,” Rocket said, holding out one of his ankles with gingerly hesitation. “Hurry up already.”

Quill rolled his eyes, but complied. He took Rocket by both of his ankles and bound them side by side with the rope. He made it so that Rocket couldn’t free himself no matter how much he squirmed, which of course he tested the moment his legs were bound to the bottom half of the bed.

“Now the arms,” Quill started, leaning back down to the ground to snatch up the rest of the rope.

“H-Hold on!” Rocket said.

Quill froze, and gazed to Rocket.

“What?”

“I… What was the safe word again?” Rocket asked.

Quill smirked, and then snickered. He got onto the bed and leaned down over Rocket as he grabbed one of his wrists.

“It’s red,” Quill said softly into Rocket’s ear. “Better remember it, cause if you forget it again I’ll keep tickling you till you lose your mind.”

That threat was equal parts terrifying and exhilarating to the raccoon. It was even more heart-racing than submitting all of his limbs to be tied up, which Quill finished with record time by binding his wrists to either side of the top of the bedframe. The raccoon’s body was now shaped like a Y, with little to no wiggle room for him to squirm.

“Comfy?” Quill asked as he finished knotting the end of the rope.

“As much as I can be,” Rocket said. “You uh… You ready?”

“Isn’t that what I should be asking?” Quill asked. “Should I take that as ‘I’m dying to have you tickle me’ or what?”

“Just… Just shut up and get started,” Rocket said.

“Awfully demanding for the one tied up and helpless,” Quill teased as he got down onto the bed. “Oh, we’re gonna have so much fun together. I guess I don’t wanna overwhelm you too fast… let’s start slow, shall we?”

By ‘starting slow’, Quill apparently meant that he was going to go directly for Rocket’s feet. The second fingertips settled down on the heel of his foot he had to resist the urge to yelp. He tensed, pulling on the rope that bound his ankles together only to feel the taut rope dig into his flesh.

“Awfully jumpy,” Quill said. He drug his fingertips, only three, up Rocket’s right sole. Once he got to the arch Rocket was struggling to not giggle. A smile began to pull at the corners of his mouth, so instead of looking down at Quill’s dopey teasing face he stared up at the ceiling and tried to concentrate.

“Nnngh!” Rocket couldn’t keep entirely silent as fingertips drug against the underside of his toes.

“Oh, here’s a sweet spot,” Quill said. He started to wiggle just one finger back and forth across the underside of Rocket’s wiggling toes.

“Mhmmhmhm,” Rocket giggled behind gritted teeth. He shut his eyes, trying to block out the sensation but Quill’s damn finger was persistent. It kept stroking and scratching until finally Rocket couldn’t hold back any longer and started to giggle.

“Eheheheheee!”

“I know just the thing for a spot like this one,” Quill said as he pulled his finger away.

“You ass,” Rocket whined as Quill reached down beside the bed for his tools. Due to Rocket’s compromising position he was unable to see what the tools were, and he had been so caught up in his thoughts that he hadn’t taken the time to really notice much of what Quill had brought with him. Anything that came up would be a surprise, much to Rocket’s worry and excitement.

Quill’s hand came back clutching a toothbrush. It was the same one from yesterday.

“H-Hey!” Rocket snapped. “I thought you said you were gonna start easy!”

“Oh, you silly raccoon,” Quill teased. He was already grabbing both of Rocket’s big toes and pulling them back so he couldn’t hide the undersides on either foot. “This is the easy stuff.”

“Waitwaitwaitwaitwa— Aaaaaah!” Rocket cried out as the toothbrush settled down to his sole and began to scrub. Instantly he burst out laughing.

“A-Ahahahahaha! You aahahahasss! Ehehehehee!”

The bristles were already so maddening. They scrubbed left to right, hitting the undersides of Rocket’s toes and the tops of the balls of his feet at the same time. They dug in deep much harsher than Quill’s fingernail could have hoped to do. A steady, quiet giggle had become a torrent of helpless laughter within seconds.

By now Rocket was writhing helplessly. He was in agony, but he adored it. The burning in his ankles from tugging on the rope so much screamed at him that he couldn’t stop this. Quill was far too strong for him, and he couldn’t so much as scrunch his toes to hide the sensitive part. This was genuine torture, and it was only getting started.

After several agonizingly long minutes the toothbrush became bored of scrubbing the same spot. Quill moved it down to the arch of one foot and repeated the same technique. It was a different, but equally awful experience. It didn’t make Rocket laugh quite as hard, but due to Quill still clutching both of his big toes it was impossible for him to hide one arch with his opposite sole. His feet were simply made to endure it without any hope for escape except hoping that Quill would soon grow bored. He didn’t. He kept dragging the toothbrush over every spot of his two feet. Whenever Rocket squealed Quill made sure to focus the spot until Rocket had no choice but to beg.

“Not thehehehehere! Ahahaha! Not there! Please!”

Even though he was begging, Rocket made sure not to let the safe word slip. The truth was begging sort of turned him on. It made him feel even more helpless to have his pleas ignored as his soles were continuously tickled.

“I guess you earned yourself a breather,” Quill said, tossing the toothbrush aside. Rocket just barely heard it hit the ground over his gasps for air. It was only just starting and already the raccoon needed time to catch his breath.

“Gee, thanks,” Rocket said between deep breaths. “Glad to have your permission.”

“Okay, that’s it, breather is over,” Quill said, reaching down beside the bed once again. “Smartass.”

“Hey, hold on!” Rocket said, squirming. His eyes widened with horror as he saw a massive hairbrush rise up. Dear god it was even bigger than one of his soles. It was a square with plastic bristles that made Rocket’s whole body tingle just to look at.

“Oh, shit,” Rocket whispered.

“Oh shit indeed,” Quill said. “Now you’re really gonna get it.”

“Hey, can we talk about this?” Rocket asked sheepishly as Quill adjusted himself. He moved his body so his back was facing Rocket, and his legs were spread apart pinning Rocket’s legs down. The raccoon felt a hand grip both of his big toes once more and pull back, exposing his feet and pulling them taut.

“Nope,” Quill said, and then put the hairbrush down against Rocket’s feet. It was big enough to cover both of his soles without much effort. “You’re doomed, buddy.”

With that, Quill began to drag the hairbrush. The noise Rocket let out was unlike anything he had ever sounded like before. It was a wild, blood curdling scream followed by horrendously hysterical laughter. The sensation of those bristles digging into the sensitive pads on the soles of his feet couldn’t even be compared to the toothbrush. After exactly ten seconds of the hairbrush violating each and every inch of his soles Rocket was positive he would plead to have the toothbrush back. That was, of course, if he could manage to get out any words past his screaming.

“AAAHAHAHAHAHHAAAA! EHEHEHE! ST-HOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOOOOOOO!”

Suddenly the raccoon was very glad they had waited until everybody on the ship had left. Even with metal walls his squealing was loud enough to be heard outside of the ship. It wasn’t like he had the mental capacity to care how loud he was being, given he was forced to focus on nothing but how horribly the hairbrush tickled. His pathetic attempts to wiggle his toes free of Quill’s iron grip was met with a sinister laugh from his tormentor.

It just kept going and going. Each time Rocket thought he reached his limit and was about to scream out the safe word something deep and primal within him kept his mouth shut. A voice in the back of his head told him he wanted this. He wanted to be made insane, and think of nothing but his feet being scrubbed. By now there wasn’t any spot on his feet that wasn’t burning and tingling from the harshness of the brush. Even when it felt like the poor raccoon should grow used to it, he never did. His feet were simply too sensitive, and the brush too evil, for him to ever stop laughing.

The only thing that became less intense the longer it drug out was Rocket’s laughter. He couldn’t keep up the wild screaming for very long. As it turned out, tickling was very exhausting. After several minutes of violently thrashing and squirming he was too tired to go on and simply laid there laughing, squirming the best he could while trying to conserve energy.

When Rocket finally started to believe Quill was right, and he was perhaps doomed, the tickling finally stopped. It was so sudden, coming out of nowhere. Even as the brush pulled away Rocket still giggled, and could still feel the faint memories of bristles running up and down his paw pads.

“Hehe, that’s one way to make you shut up,” Quill teased. He put one of his fingers onto Rocket’s foot right at the arch, making the raccoon yelp. Even the tiniest stroke made the poor raccoon giggle now. His feet felt raw, and he wouldn’t be surprised if they were blushing from all the scrubbing.

“Nnnngh… Wow… That was something,” Rocket said. His words came slowly. Even now it was like he could still feel the brush and its awful bristles attacking his feet.

“Heh, you sounded kinda like I was killing you for a bit there,” Quill said. He got off Rocket’s legs and laid down next to the bound raccoon. He put a hand over Rocket’s chest gently and began to rub.

“You basically were,” Rocket said with a giggle.

“Did I go too far?” Quill asked.

“You kidding me?” Rocket responded, looking over to Quill with a devious smirk. “I bet an old lady could scrub harder than that. You call that tickling?”

“Oh, you wanna start taunting me now?” Quill asked. He leaned down overtop of Rocket’s body with his elbows pressing into the bed on either side of the small raccoon. His fingers started wiggling on either side, drawing ever closer. “Is that really smart of you?”

“H-Hey!” Rocket said. “C’mon, it was just a joke!”

“A joke, huh?” Quill asked. “Then why aren’t you LAUGHING?”

All at once all of Quill’s fingers dug into Rocket’s sides. The poor raccoon stood no chance. He burst out laughing with intensity he didn’t know he was capable of. He screamed his laughter as Quill’s fingers plunged past his fur and went right for his skin. He started to squeal and writhe as fingernails drug down his ribs and to his belly, back up to his armpits and back down again. For a few minutes no spot on Rocket’s entire upper body was safe. Quill’s goal had changed from attacking sensitive areas to attacking every area as fast as possible, giving Rocket no time to prepare or adapt.

“BAAAHAHAHAHAAAAA!”

“Oh, I think I get the joke now,” Quill said as he slowed down his rapid torment teasing and started focusing on stroking Rocket’s sides near his belly, still leaving the raccoon giggling but nothing close to the screaming agony of before.

“E-Ehehehe! Y-Youhohohu’re a jerk!”

“You’re either very brave or very stupid for taunting me after that,” Quill said. “Or maybe you’re just a horndog.”

“Huh?”

It wasn’t until Quill’s hand fell down from Rocket’s side and landed directly over his cock did Rocket realize he had gotten hard. He had been so focused on just grasping onto his sanity during the tickling that he hadn’t even realized just how turned on he had become from it. The sight made him blush.

“Can I?” Quill asked, dipping his fingertips into the raccoon’s underwear.

Rocket nodded his head. Quill smiled, and began to pull down. As soon as Rocket’s cock was given freedom it pointed straight up. He was seriously rock solid. He hadn’t realized how constraining his underwear had felt until Quill removed it.

“Damn,” Quill said. “Haven’t even touched it yet and you’re dripping.”

“Shut up,” Rocket whined.

“Why?” Quill said teasingly. “It’s cute. You’re like a little tickle slut.”

Tickle slut. The word made Rocket want to writhe. It felt demeaning, but somehow not in a bad way. It almost felt right, and part of him wanted to ask Quill to say it again. He bit his tongue, not wanting to expose himself that far just yet.

Quill reached his hand down and grabbed Rocket by his rocket. The touch was tender yet firm, making Rocket gasp gently. As he rubbed his hand up and down his opposite hand came down beside Rocket’s cock just under where his waistline lay. With just a few fingers Quill brushed aside the fur covering the area and let his fingernails find their way down to the flesh. He drug his nails slowly, and began to explore just where Rocket’s body was sensitive in such an unconventional place.

As it turned out, just about everywhere in that area was sensitive enough to make the raccoon giggle.

“Mmmmhmhmm!” Rocket held back a giggle as the nails ran along the tops of his thighs. The dam burst as soon as Quill made his way for the inner thighs where Rocket’s restrained giggle became a loud laugh. To be honest the tickling was probably keeping him just as hard as Quill’s was stroking him.

“You’re really sensitive all over your body, you know that,” Quill said. He removed his hand from exploring Rocket’s groin area and reached down to the bed, picking up the toothbrush once more. “But right now, I really wanna hear you scream again.”

“Q-Quill?” Rocket questioned nervously as he spotted the brush. “What are you gonna do with that?”

“Oh, you’ll see,” Quill said.

A shiver of fear went up Rocket’s spine. He felt Quill’s hand grip toghter around his cock. The head was sticking out, exposed and damp with the sight of pre-cum. With horror the raccoon was forced to watch as the toothbrush came down and settled its bristles against the head.

It was unlike anything Rocket had ever felt before. Even before Quill began to drag the bristles he could feel his body tense up. When the bristles began to drag against the impossibly sensitive flesh he let out a squealing scream, perhaps even louder than when the hairbrush had tortured his feet.

“AAAAHHH! Shit shit shit shit shit!” Rocket started swearing over and over as that brush drug. Quill was gentle and slow, but the brush made it seem impossibly rough and cruel. His wrists and ankles both began to burn from how strongly he began tugging at them. He started to gasp and whine.

“O-Oh god oh god oh GOD!” Rocket whined.

Quill had moved the brush down so it was against the underside of his head right near the glands. He moved it up and down slowly, causing Rocket to cry out louder and louder. Despite the agony of being overstimulated he managed to find a way to laugh even now.

“A-Ahahaha! Ahahaha! SHIT! AHAHAHAAAAA!”

The raccoon’s hips buckled and tugged yet Quill’s grip was iron, keeping his cock in place to futher submit it to torture. It tickled, and it over stimulated, and worst of all Rocket’s mind was being pushed to such a state where he wasn’t sure if he despised it or adored it. The bristles dug into his glands and over the very top. It was like his mind was short circuiting and he couldn’t make sense of it.

It felt like hours, but was likely only a few minutes, when Quill finally stopped. Rocket was full on whimpering when the toothbrush was pulled away. His cock burned with the memory of sensations, and embarrassingly enough he felt far closer to orgasm than he would like to admit. If that had kept up any longer he might have seriously blown his load without being able to tell Quill over his whining and squealing.

“Ahh… Ah…” Rocket gasped.

“Heh, too much?”

“Nnngh… a little,” Rocket said sheepishly. “I don’t… I don’t know if I hated it, though.”

“You’re so sadistic,” Quill taunted. He finally released Rocket’s cock as he laid down and wrapped an arm over Rocket’s bound body. He buried his face right into Rocket’s side and nuzzled gently. The brush over his cockhead had seemed to make his entire body more jumpy and sensitive than before, leaving Rocket a whimpering mess. Quill seemed to understand without the raccoon needing to tell him that he needed something a bit lighter to follow up such agonizing intensity, and moved his hand up from where it had been gripping the cock until his palm was pressing down to Rocket’s soft belly. He gave a gentle squeeze, digging each of his fingers into a different spot as he groped.

“Mhmhm…” Rocket resisted a giggle.

“I can’t believe you let me tie you up like this,” Quill taunted rocket by whispering into his ear. “It must be complete and utter torture knowing I can do whatever I want and you can’t stop it at all.”

As Quill spoke he moved his fingers down until they were right over Rocket’s belly button. The raccoon had learned over the past few sessions that it was one of the more sensitive spots on his body, which of course meant Quill couldn’t go without at least teasing it a little. His pointer finger dipped in and pressed, causing an alien sensation to go over Rocket’s entire belly.

“Mmhmhmhmhmmm!” Rocket still fought back giggles. He put his head back and whined, squirming and tugging on his bindings knowing full well he wasn’t going to magically find freedom. By the time Quill has started to swirl around his fingers in slow and tedious circles the raccoon thought he was sure to lose his mind if this kept up. He turned his head away from where Quill’s face was pressed, only to quickly feel the man’s face dive into his neck. He gasped, and with that his giggling was no longer contained.

“A-Ahahahaha!”

Quill began to nibble and kiss against Rocket’s neck, leading to the raccoon letting out occasional squeals as the two parts of his body were attacked at once. It was much less intense than the hairbrush on his feet or the toothbrush on his cockhead. In fact this sort of treatment made the raccoon feel as though he were being teased, not tortured. Even as Quill’s fingers began to press and rub around his belly button with more ferocity Rocket couldn’t help but feel a warmth in his chest that was difficult to pass off as anything but enjoyment.

“Mmm, you’re not done yet, are you?” Quill asked as he lifted his lips from where they had been pressing up to the raccoon’s soft neck. “You want more. I can feel it.”

“Mmm… I do,” Rocket admitted. He had to shut his eyes to avoid accidently blushing when he saw the smirk he knew Quill was wearing. “I need more, Quill.”

“Heh, you’re such a good little tickle slut,” Quill said.

There was that name again. It made Rocket’s toes curl just to hear it. It made him want to squirm and smile and blush all at once.

“I’m a tickle slut,” Rocket admitted. “Keep tickling me, Quill! L-Let me have it! Please!”

“Heh, alright buddy,” Quill said. Even he sounded a bit taken aback by Rocket’s sudden insistence and pleading for more, but it was a good kind of surprised. “Let’s hear you sing again, then.”

Rocket cracked open his eyes just when Quill was leaning back over to the side of the bed in order to grab more tools. He could hardly believe he had managed to get those words out so sincerely. Even to Quill, who he trusted to bind him up and torment him senseless, it felt like a mountain to overcome just to say his desires so transparently.

Even if it embarrassed the hell out of the raccoon to admit it, his pleas were rewarded as several objects dropped down onto the bed beside Rocket near his legs. Even when he looked down he struggled to make any of them out, save for the one closest to him which Quill picked up and drew closer.

A small, circular brush that fit perfectly into the palm of Quill’s hands. A strap wrapped around over his fingers to secure it into place. Quickly Rocket realized that it wasn’t just one, but two of these fearful looking devices looming towards him. One was in each of Quill’s hands, looming to either one of his two bare sides.

“Oh god,” Rocket whined at the sight of them.

“You asked for it,” Quill said. “Now be a good little tickle slut and beg for me to put these on you.”

“C-C’mon, Quill,” Rocket whined.

“You can beg better than that,” Quill said.

Rocket felt himself blush.

“I want you to tickle me… D-Don’t hold back!”

Quill grinned. It was time for Rocket to suffer once more. Quill was going to make sure of it, and he did so by first diving with both brush covered hands into both of Rocket’s armpits at once. For what felt like the dozenth time since he had first been tied up, poor Rocket exploded.

“BAAAAHAHAHAAAAAAA!”

Truth be told, Rocket really didn’t expect those two brushes to tickle quite as violently as they did. They were plastic-ended in their bristles much like the hairbrush used previously on his feet. However, given they were much smaller and attacked to Quill’s hands he was able to dig in deep to the concave parts of Rocket’s helpless pits. The bristles dug straight through his fur, gliding against his skin with a simple movement of Quill’s hand. He didn’t even have to scrub that hard for Rocket to feel each and every individual bristle as it licked and drug over every inch of the inside of his pits.

Rocket tugged with helpless desperation at the rope keeping his hands above his head. Instinctively his body was trying to forcefully tug down his arms and hide the sensitive area. Even though he knew he loved it, his body still pleaded with him in agony to thrash and plead.

“PLEHEHEHEEEESE STOHOHOHOP!” Rocket cried out. “I’M GOHOHOHOOOING INSANEEEEE!”

His wrists began to really burn after several minutes of nonstop brushing. His pits felt as though they were burning, with tingling sensations of ticklish hell striking through his body. When he tried to squirm from one side to the other all he did was cause the brush on the opposite end to dig deeper. Soon Rocket was held in place, forced to sit still or else cause the tickling to get worse. It seemed so easy for Quill to make Rocket suffer. All he had to do was to drag his hands up and down and up and down and up and down again. It was an endless hell, one of which Rocket’s poor pits never grew the least bit accustomed to.

All of this while his cock was exposed, fully erect, and pointing up to the ceiling. There was no hiding how much Rocket adored this. There was nothing to shield him from the fact that right now he was nothing but a tickle slut getting exactly what he asked for. Even as tears built up behind his eyes he didn’t dare say the safe word that would cause it all to stop and come crashing down. As sanity was forced out of him with each stroke of the brushes he grew more and more desperate and hysterical. Soon his tongue hung out as he laughed and laughed, staring straight up at the ceiling and squealing. He had stopped begging, and now could only laugh.

It was another story entirely when Quill’s hands finally left his pits. Much like his feet with the hairbrush even after the brushes were removed he could still feel the memory of violent, continuous strokes inside of the sensitive spot. Only this time Rocket wasn’t given a break. Instead, Quill had simply shifted focus of where he was tormenting. He moved several inches down from Rocket’s pits and instead began to focus on his ribs and sides.

“PPPPFFFFT HAHAHAHAHAHA NOHOHO FAIR! EEEHEHEHEEEE I’M GONNA DIIIIIEEEEE!”

With a new area to tickle came a new level of heightened agony. His pits while still agony to be tickled at had become used to the brushes. His ribs however had so far been untouched, meaning that the fresh touch of the bristles upon them brought back Rocket’s hysteria in full force.

“NOHOHOHOHOOOOOO!” Rocket cried out.

“You’re so doomed,” Quill teased as he settled himself so he was lying on Rocket’s body with his chin settled on the raccoon’s belly. His hands were on either side taking their sweet time running up and down. “I’m surprised you haven’t passed out yet. You must really love being a good little tickle slut for me.”

It was impossible for Rocket to respond with anything but wild laughter. The truth was he could practically feel his stability slipping away. It was being replaced with nothing but the overwhelming sensations of this never ending tickling. Part of him wanted to just exist here, never having to worry about anything and to think only of sensations that overwhelmed him bit by bit. The longer this hell went on the less shame and embarrassment Rocket was able to feel for how much he loved it. Quill’s desire to torment him and tickle him within an inch of his remaining wits made him feel… happy. Beneath all the agony he was experiencing right now there was a clear overwhelming joy bubbling just under the surface. Quill was making him feel not only wanted, but adored and cherished. Of course, what did he know? Right now he was just a tickle slut, who existed only for Quill to tickle him.

When the brushes were finally removed from his sides for good Rocket was a whimpering and exhausted mess. He couldn’t stop giggling even as Quill stripped the brushes from his hands one by one, and when hands settled gently at his sides he jumped and yelped in anticipation that the tickling would continue.

“Nnngh… I’m good,” Rocket said softly, already anticipating what Quill was going to ask him. “I’m good.”

“You sure?” Quill asked, running his hand gently down Rocket’s sides. “You didn’t forget the safe word or anything? You seemed kinda… frantic.”

“I-I remembered the damn word red,” Rocket spat out, though had to admit the bark behind his words really didn’t feel as impactful after what felt like a solid hour of tickle torture to drag him to the depths of his own exhuastion. “Hehe… this is really fun, Quill.”

“Glad to hear it,” Quill said back.

Seeming to think that Rocket needed a bit of a breather, Quill laid down yet again and wrapped his arms around the bound raccoon. Rocket kept his eyes shut and focused on calming himself. He breathed in deeply to the rhythm of Quill’s hand running up and down his chest fur.

“Y’know,” Rocket said softly. “I… I was really ashamed of liking this when you first did it.”

“Yeah?” Quill asked in a tone that told Rocket he was listening intently. 

“I felt like a freak. Like of all things that got me off tickling had to be one of the weirdest. It reminded me a lot of all that shit I went through back when I was created… being bound up and struggling and hating it. It made me feel even more ashamed that I liked it… like something was messed up in my head to make me like torture.”

Rocket could feel himself blush.

“Rocket,” Quill said softly. “Nothing’s wrong with your head. Well… Besides your obsession with blowing things up and killing things with guns.”

Rocket couldn’t help but chuckle at that.

“Point is, you can’t even imagine the kind of freaky shit some of these girls out here in space have asked me to do,” Quill said. “Besides, I think I’m having just as much fun as you.”

“Really?” Rocket asked.

“Hell yeah,” Quill said. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for an excuse to torture the shit out of your annoying ass.”

Rocket smirked, and giggled at that. His chest felt warm all of a sudden, and soon it was difficult to keep himself from smiling.

“Y’know, I suddenly really regret bringing all of this up when I’m tied up,” Rocket said.

“Oh, really?” Quill asked. “I thought it was just normal pillow talk.”

“Piss off,” Rocket groaned.

“Judging by your attitude I take it your break time’s up,” Quill said, getting up slowly before moving his body so it was positioned overtop of Rocket’s own. Rocket looked up with squeamish fear. The look in Quill’s eyes that was pure evil returned in full force before Rocket so much as had a chance to blink.

Quill reached out both of his hands at once and grabbed for Rocket’s chest. At first Rocket thought he was going back to his sides to tickle, but instead was surprised as he felt fingertips come down over his nipples and give a light pinch. He gasped given how unprepared his body was for that sort of stimulation.

“Nnnngh, Pete,” Rocket whined.

“What’s wrong?” Quill asked. He started to stroke his fingertips gently over the tips of Rocket’s nipples. Even through his fur it was clear to both of them that it was yet another spot that was outrageously sensitive. Even the light touches with the ends of Quill’s fingers were making Rocket want to writhe.

“Mmmmmhmhmmm!” Rocket was caught between whining and wanting to keep giggling. He was being driven insane by a few light strokes. The overwhelming overstimulation from before had seemed awful at the time, but something about the same light strokes over and over on such a sensitive area were really getting to the raccoon. When Quill began to lightly pinch Rocket would whimper, and fight off the urge to gasp.

“There there,” Quill said in a soothing tone. He kept his thumb and pointer finger on both of Rocket’s nipples, still lightly pinching and stroking them, as he allowed his other fingers to travel towards Rocket’s pits. As he pinched he started to let the remaining three fingers dance and claw.

“E-Eheheheheeee!” Rocket whined. “G-Gahhh! No fair! Eheheheeee!”

“No fair?” Quill asked. “Sorry, do you not get it by now? Not being fair is the whole point of this!”

“A-Ahahahaassshole!” Rocket cried out.

Quill lowered himself down until his chin was pressing to Rocket’s belly. Rocket was too busy giggling and squirming to notice it, but he had hardened up again pretty quickly. His cock was pressing hard into Quill’s shirt. Luckily for Rocket, he didn’t really have the mental space required to be embarrassed about that with the fingers attacking his pits.

For what felt like ten solid minutes Quill didn’t let up. He kept Rocket whimpering and giggling, never pushing over the line of hysteria as he had before. When he finally grew bored with Rocket’s nipples he released them. Rocket felt himself blush as he realized just how much he had grown to enjoy the feeling.

“I think we need to finish you off soon,” Quill said as he sat up. His hand came down to Rocket’s cock once more as he wrapped his fingers around the base. “Or else I’m seriously gonna make you pass out.”

“Mmm,” Rocket stared down at his rock solid cock. It was true he was seriously exhausted, and the little stimulation Quill’s hand was giving his cock was enough to make him bite his lip and whine.

“Let’s finish with a bang, shall we?” Quill asked.

Rocket stared as Quill’s hand fell back to the bed and retrieved that horrifying toothbrush. Rocket felt his legs involuntarily squeeze at the sight of it, which only caused his cock to stand higher. He wasn’t sure if he could survive another round of that thing running over his cockhead. Even in his sadism-driven state he was convinced he might actually die if it happened again.

Fortunately for Rocket, and a bit unfortunately for his sadistic desires, Quill seemed to pass right over Rocket’s cock as he lowered the toothbrush. Instead of his crotch, the brush fell right over Rocket’s belly button. The bristles touched down, and already Rocket could feel them harshly poke through his fur against his skin.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen,” Quill said as he gave the toothbrush the tiniest and most evil brush downward. Rocket bit his tongue to keep from giggling. “I’m gonna start scrubbing while I jerk you off. I won’t stop till you cum buckets for me. We could be here for a few minutes or a few hours. It’s all up to if you can cum, big guy.”

Rocket swallowed a lump in his throat. That idea was so awfully cruel that it was causing his heart to race. He knew deep down that he could stop all of this with the safeword, but he also knew that there was no way in hell he would ever let himself say it. He craved tickling far too much.

“O-Okay,” Rocket said nervously, and gave a quick nod of his head. “When are you gon— A-AAHHHH!”

Before Rocket could finish his sentence Quill started scrubbing. It was a dirty move, not even letting Rocket give himself time to prepare. As soon as that toothbrush began to drag and scratch near and in his belly button Rocket knew he was doomed. He could hardly feel Quill’s hand dragging up and down his cock compared to the intensity of the toothbrush. It kept pressing down, causing tingles and vibrations of ticklish pleasure to echo around Rocket’s entire body.

“E-Eehehehehee! You baahhahahaastard!” Rocket cried out. The toothbrush kept pushing down like it was slapping against a button that forced desperate, loud cries of laughter out of the raccoon. Eventually the harsh hair bristles were dipping into his belly button and dragging against the impossibly vulnerable skin. Rocket’s giggling turned to a desperate squeal.

“AAAAHAHAAHAAA! NOOOOOOHOHOHOOOO!”

All of this went on while Quill’s hand was firmly around Rocket’s cock dragging up and down. Soon Rocket truly did begin to feel the stimulation as well as the tickling. His hips against any will of his own started to thrust up and down, trying to force his cock to grind harder into Quill’s hand.

“Ahhh! Ahhhh! Ahahahaha! Heheheee! Ahhh!”

Moaning became intermingled with Rocket’s laughter. He tugged relentlessly at all of his bindings. It was like he was climbing a steep mountain without an end in sight. The tickling weighed him down, causing tears to well up in his eyes and blur his vision. He couldn’t stop laughing, and his poor belly button seemed to only grow more sensitive as the minutes passed by. First it was ten, then twenty, then thirty solid minutes of that brush violating his poor belly button.

“EEEEHEHEEEE!” Rocket squealed. He was actually going insane now. It had been so long. He felt as though he had been on the edge of cumming for fifteen minutes now but no matter what he did he simply couldn’t will himself to blow. Each stroke Quill gave him was a long and agonizing attack at his nerves. It seemed to only make him more sensitive. His belly button was still quivering under the torture of the toothbrush. It burned and stung where he had been so relentlessly abused.

Soon Rocket couldn’t pull at the bindings anymore. He laid there, spent of all his energy. He could only laugh and whimper as the brush continued to press down into his belly button. Soon enough he barely had enough energy to keep grinding his hips up and down. He wanted to cum, but he also never wanted this moment to end. He never wanted that brush to leave his belly button and deprive him of the torture he had become addicted to. As he laid there laughing he hardly noticed that there was finally a peak in sight for his awful climb to orgasm.

“Nnnngh!” Rocket suddenly couldn’t laugh for a brief moment as he realized just how close he had gotten in his tickle tortured daze. “Ahh! P-Pehehehete! Ahhh! I-I’m…!”

It all happened so fast. Quill didn’t seem to even notice just how close Rocket was until cum shot out of his cock high into the air. The toothbrush for a moment finally stopped scrubbing, but Rocket didn’t grow any more quiet. A loud, helpless moan overtook his entire body as he cried out. His back arched as strands of cum burst out. They flew high enough to go over his head, and the shots that didn’t went over his chest. 

“Ahh… Ah…. Ahhhh….” Rocket kept gasping even as he finished. The slightest movement or touch made his body jerk involuntarily. Even Quill’s hand loosening from his sensitive cock was enough to make him whimper. His eyes were shut as for the first time that session it truly set in just how hopelessly spent his energy was.

Before Rocket had any time to recover from his post-orgasm high he felt hands come up to his cheeks, and Quill’s head come down to press a brief but firm kiss against his lips. Rocket couldn’t fight it given his position, but the raccoon knew deep down that regardless of the rope he would have accepted it in that moment.

Rocket could feel his cheeks burn. As soon as Quill parted lips with him his hands went up and started to untie the rope binding Rocket to the bed. His wrists burned and ached, and Rocket wondered briefly if they might bruise given just how hard he had fought against them.

“I’m impressed you didn’t say the safeword during any of that,” Quill said. “I thought for sure that toothbrush on your dick would get you screaming it.”

“Hey, I’m tougher than some damn brush,” Rocket said back.

“Or you’re just a big ol’ tickle slut,” Quill said, smirking down.

Rocket’s cheeks burned hotter. He couldn’t even argue with that. Even after the session ended it made him happy to be called that.

“H-How long were we here?” Rocket asked as Quill undid the rope around his ankles.

“Over an hour at least,” Quill said. “Maybe two.”

“Jeez,” Rocket groaned. “Explains why I’m so damn tired.”

“Here, let me help,” Quill said.

Without warning Rocket felt Quill’s arms force themselves under Rocket’s body. Quickly he was scooped up and held in Quill’s arms on his back still naked.

“H-Hey, dammit, put me down!” Rocket snapped, squirming in the arms of his previous tormentor. “What if somebody sees me like this?”

“Relax,” Quill said. “Trust me, if anybody was back on the ship they woulda burst in thinking you were dying. You scream REALLY loud.”

Rocket grumbled, but didn’t put up more of a fight as he settled into Quill’s arms and just accepted the generosity. He laid his head against Quill’s arm and shut his eyes as he felt himself be carried out of the room. As the two of them made their way down the hallway of the ship Rocket felt a sense of calm. Quill’s heart beat in his ear, soothing him like a sweet song.

“Hey, Quill?” Rocket said softly.

“Yeah?”

“I… Thanks for everything,” Rocket said.

That was all that Rocket was able to say. Truthfully there were probably far more words to express how he felt, but right now none of them would come to mind. He was happy, and felt secure, and like a huge weight had been lifted from his chest. What Quill had done for him had made him happier than he felt in years.

Rocket heard Quill chuckle into his ear as he turned the corner into Rocket’s cabin. A hand rubbed up against the back of his head soothingly, and told Rocket that Quill understood the deeper meaning behind his words. The raccoon smiled softly as Quill moved past all the junk littering the floor and made his way to the bed to sit down, still cradling Rocket.

“You just gonna hold me like a baby forever?” Rocket asked.

“Only until you tell me to put you down again,” Quill said. “Which I know you probably won’t for awhile.”

“Ass,” Rocket grumbled, knowing Quill was telling the truth. As payback, the raccoon decided this was the perfect position to test something he had been wondering about for some time. He put a hand up to Quill’s chest and dug his claws in lightly, dragging them to the side until he was pressing to Quill’s side from the outside of his shirt. He suddenly felt Quill tense up. Rocket wiggled his fingers on Quill’s side as the man had done to him countless times before.

“H-Hehehey, you jerk!” Quill snapped.

“Oh, boy,” Rocket said, smiling up at Quill. “Looks like I’m not the only ticklish one. That’s giving me a few ideas of my own. Maybe next time I’ll tie you up and see how you like it!”

“I doubt you’ll think too hard about those ideas,” Quill said, raising a hand and pressing a single finger down to Rocket’s belly button. The raccoon yelped, and instantly started squirming. “You’re waaaayyy too much of a little tickle slut to keep away from these fingers for too long. You’ll be begging me to tie you up again within the week.”

“E-Ehehehee! Stop it, Quill!” Rocket whined, giggling and squirming in Quill’s arms knowing full well he could get out if he wanted to. His refusal to move only seemed to prove Quill’s point, but truthfully the raccoon didn’t mind all that much. Quill was right. He had a feeling that even after a session as intense as that he would feel the hunger for more return quickly. For the first time, though, he didn’t feel all that nervous. Actually, he was pretty excited.

“That’s it, you’re getting it now!” Rocket snapped when more of Quill’s fingers started to lay down and attack his soft belly. 

For awhile longer until the rest of the crew finally returned the two stayed alone in Rocket’s cabin. From just outside the door one could hear giggling and laughter sprout up from not one, but two voices.


End file.
